Page 90 of Playing it Country

“Why in the hell would I want a girl when I catch enough grief from you assholes every day of the week?”

“At least you’d be gettin’ laid—might help with the rest of your attitude. What’s Rhea call it? Your broodiness?” I smirk. “Sounds sexy.”

“Out,” he barks as he points at the door. “Go find your girl and figure your shit out and then text me so I know whether or not to stop painting.”

I take a step in the direction he indicated and then turn back to face him. Bending down, I pick up a clean roller. “I can’t let you do all of it.”

“It’s fine.”

I don’t want to admit that I’m not ready to find Hannah. I’m not sure there’s anything I can say to make her stay and that thought alone has me swallowing a lump in my throat. I’m not ready to watch her pack her bags and leave, and I’m definitely not ready to say goodbye.

Sorren exhales audibly and it’s clear he’s tired. I want to ask if he’s been sleeping when he speaks again. “You can help paint when Tanner and I sign the lease for the commercial building we scoped out.”

“What?” I ask, genuine surprise on my face.

His smile is modest, all pretense of hisbroodinessgone, and he lifts a shoulder. “I told you I was workin’ on something.”

I close the distance between us, and he narrows his eyes before I pull him into a quick but tight hug. He sighs and pats my back as he tolerates my embrace.

“Proud of you,” I say as he takes a step back.

“You don’t even know what it is yet.”

“Doesn’t matter what it is, man. There no one I know who works harder and give more of themselves than you.” He doesn’t say anything but I watch his Adam’s apple bob, I add, “Just let me know when it’s time and I’ll paint the shit out of that place.”

We share a small smile before his expression sobers. “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?” he asks, defeated.

Swallowing hard, I shake my head. “I’ll just stay for a little bit.”

He eyes me for a minute but doesn’t comment as he turns and goes back to the section of wall he’d abandoned. He doesn’t call me out on being a coward, and he doesn’t tell me I’m makin’ the wrong choice by hiding in this space that’s supposed to be hers.

Sorren’s said his piece, and I just hope I’ll be ready to say mine when the time comes.

38

CASE

The sun has moved considerably across the sky since I burst through the doors of the shop. An old Descending North song plays as I wipe my face on the bottom of my shirt. I needed the physical labor—the exertion—to prepare myself to see Hannah, but now I’m definitely gonna need a shower.

Sorren grunts as he stands to his full height. The dude is an animal and has barely stopped all day.

“You ready yet?” he asks as he takes a long drink of water from the bottle in his hand.

“I think so.”

He stares at me pointedly. “Well?”

“Give me a minute. I gotta clean all this up.”

He rolls his eyes and caps his bottle with more force than necessary. “Go.”

“But—“

“You’ve had, like, six hours to sulk. You’re done. I’ll clean up. Out,” he says as he points at the door.

“You don’t have to be so mean,” I grumble.

“Out,” he repeats and I throw my hands up.

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